


With A Smile

by jackopancake



Category: Gintama
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 00:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackopancake/pseuds/jackopancake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pacifist can't go to war, you know, without the consequences laying heavily upon them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With A Smile

It’s no good going out without a smile.

The world’s terrible, Tatsuma knows this. He knows this from his scar-riddled body and from the lives that had been lost every day in the senseless fighting he should never have even participated in in the first place, with all his talk against killing and hurting as a teenager. So he gives a smile instead, for those who days aren't good, so that maybe they can see that someone cares.

However, if he can’t give that smile, he doesn’t leave his room.

Normally, he doesn’t mind being alone. The darkness and silence are calming those days, he stares out his window at the stars and feels like he’s in space itself. His brain’s numb, he feels like he’s sinking and he imagines himself in the stars. Sometimes he ventures out within an hour, sometimes it takes all day, and Mutsu has to bring him his meals.

But no one on his ship truly understands. They don’t understand what wakes Tatsuma up at night screaming on his worst days. They can’t see that he subtly flinches at his own gun going off. He laughs for many reasons, and everyone just thinks nothing of it. It’s one of his stims, after all. But he laughs more on his worse days, until he can’t laugh. And so, he locks himself away.

He feels lonely the days he wants someone to understand. To Tatsuma, not even Gintoki understands; he believes Gintoki was never truly affected by killing in the war. He wasn’t the one with tears streaming down his face at night in regret of all the lives he cut down. Why didn’t they live? Why did Tatsuma have to live?

He remembers the war. Some nights he can’t sleep, because he closes his eyes and images flash by under his eyelids. Images of death, of watching comrades waste away due to disease or loss of blood. He remembers the letter he got, of his sister’s death due to his rash choices. Why did she die? Why didn’t he die? Without distraction, his brain wanders to his worst memories, so he often drinks and has sex to pull himself away from those thoughts.

His brain is without distraction now, he’s wandering around Edo with condoms in his pocket and booze money in his hand. He's a bit tipsy, already having been to a couple of bars in the area. But the effects of alcohol on his body are starting to dull, so his brain still churns out memory after memory, a deathly feeling still settles over him. Why didn’t he stay on the ship? He’s not sure what to do, really, he wants to continue to drink and maybe get laid, he wants to have fun but he also wants to… well. He doesn’t know. His brain is a mix of wants yet inabilities, of thoughts bad and good (mostly bad). He just lets his feet wander.

His feet take him to Yorozuya.

Yet, Gintoki doesn’t understand.

He carefully climbs up the steps and opens the door. A couple voices inside greet him, only to quiet as they realize that this isn’t their boss. Tatsuma mutters, asking for tea and stepping inside, leaving his shoes and coat by the door. The kids just assume he’s seasick, invite him to lay down and help make his tea. Tatsuma chooses Gintoki’s room to hide away in.

But Gintoki doesn’t understand. _Why are you here, moron?_

Shinpachi calls the number that Gintoki had left them, and he rushes over immediately the moment he hears. _Sakamoto-san is here, he’s locked himself in your room with a cup of tea. What should we do?_   Shinpachi comments on how he hopes Tatsuma doesn’t get sick in there - if only he knew. But Gintoki knows, and he’s afraid.

Gintoki steps inside, ignoring the concerned looks on the kids’ faces as he opens the door to his bedroom. “Gonna keep Gin-san outta his own room? You must be joking. Incoming.” He slides the door closed behind him, and his eyes trail around the walls to find Tatsuma sitting in one of the corners, nursing a mug. He can't see the slight tint of drunkenness on his face in the dark room, thankfully. He almost breathes a sigh of relief at the sight, but he stays calm. Hm, he must be feeling like shit if he came here. It isn’t the first time this has happened; Gintoki understands the implications. He says nothing, just pushing his futon next to him before calmly kneeling and tugging him onto it. It’s no good sitting in a corner.

Tatsuma takes the invitation and lays down, using Gintoki’s lap as his pillow, laying on his side. The other doesn’t mind, instead he settles for running his fingers through Tatsuma’s curls, a keen eye watching him. Gintoki can sense the heaviness coming from the other.

He, too, sees the war. He sees it every day, whether it’s through his own drinking and gambling or in the eyes of someone who was changed by it, forever.

Tatsuma was wrong when it came to Gintoki. Gintoki understood.

He hates it, though. He hates seeing Tatsuma in these depressive states; he worries that he’ll hurt himself. He tried, once, in the war. He trusts Tatsuma, however; he trusts him enough to keep his promises, and promises like those are heavy ones to keep. It just feels wrong to see him so still, so quiet. It feels wrong to see someone, normally so bright and vibrant, smiling and laughing at almost everything, seemingly so suddenly beat down and broken.

Then again, Tatsuma had been beat down and broken from the start.

“...I’m surprised,” he mutters after a while, causing Tatsuma to stir as he looks up. “You didn’t just go get wasted.”

“Got a couple drinks. But I didn’t feel like goin' all the way,” he mutters back.

“What did you feel like, then?”

“Collapsing.”

Gintoki hums, and his eyes trail over to the window. The moon is new tonight; the stars could be seen despite the light of the lamps flickering below the window. “Tatsuma, for a star to release its light, it must burn, right?”

Tatsuma’s expression turns to confusion.

“Once the burning stops, the light fades. So burn a bit. Let yourself burn so that later you can shine the brightest you’ll ever be. The sky needs its brightest star.”

A smile creeps up on Tatsuma's face. That isn't how it works. When a star stops burning, it collapses into itself, explodes into a nebula to birth newer stars. But... he enjoys the sentiment. Being called that… a star… gives him a nice feeling. Silence settles over them once more.

His tea goes cold. Eventually, Tatsuma pushes himself up and stretches, a sudden laugh escaping. Gintoki smiles, a small twitch of his lips. Tatsuma turns around, and the smile is still there. It fills him with a bit of joy, fills his heart with a bit of light. It gives him enough push to finalize his decision. It helps validate his reasons for living, validates his decisions to have his own turned-up smile whenever he’s awake. “Ah, thank you Kintoki, I’m okay now.”

It’s half a lie.

He’s just better enough to fake it now. Gintoki can see this, but he doesn’t push it, instead just nodding and tugging on the other’s shirt. “Before you go.”

“Eh? Oi…”

Tatsuma smiles as he’s pulled in for a spontaneous kiss, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck as he did so. He laughs into it, as if to say, _Yes, I’ll be alright._ He pulls back eventually and stands, giving Gintoki a small wave before slipping out the door silently before the kids could notice he was gone.

It’s no use going out with a smile, hence is why he has one now. A smile to brighten up a day of someone who needs it. Because God knows how much he needs it sometimes.

**Author's Note:**

> People can tell me all they want that Tatsuma got out of the war the least affected, but I say otherwise. If you liked this/want to see more, feel free to leave feedback/a comment, please!
> 
> (*stim - a repetitive motion/sound made to self-stimulate)


End file.
